


blank and betrayed

by ayykaashi



Series: AkaKuro Week 2017 [7]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AkaKuro Week 2017, Akakuro - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Teiko era, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayykaashi/pseuds/ayykaashi
Summary: [Teiko Days] Akashi could handle many hard things in life, so why was Kuroko's resignation letter affecting him this way? Why was he getting so worked up over something he was possibly just reading into too much, whenheis the winner of all? || DAY 7: free day!the emotional oreshi-bokushi fic i just had to dopossible side story to c&c and a&a, but also fine alone!





	blank and betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> i said i would do something else for akkr week day 7 but i listened to mayday parade at 2am and this came out im sorry
> 
> AGAIN, AKASHI IS A BIT OOC HERE but then this is when he just recently shifted to bokushi and i always wondered how would the changed akashi deal with heartbreak??? it's an interesting concept really
> 
> akakuro week may have ended, but this ship is still one of my otps so :') enjoy the fic !!:D

There were many things Akashi could handle that many couldn’t. The pressure set on him by father, he handled with much difficulties, but still handled somehow. Being the captain of a powerhouse basketball club, while physically taxing, he handled. His studies and his position as the top student of his batch were both hard to maintain, considering everything else he had to do, but he managed.

So why…

Why was it he couldn’t handle this simple feeling in his chest? The heavy feeling that felt delayed, it made his feet feel like lead and his body lethargic. His shoulders grew stiffer, and his neck hurt. His hands felt numb as if they were just moving on autopilot, and it confused him how he couldn’t just _control_ himself. His mouth felt dry and excessively wet all at once, and every word he spoke felt different. Everything felt strange and he didn’t know why he couldn’t handle it for some reason.

But he was _winning_ so why the _fuck_ is he being like this?

Why couldn’t he handle a simple break-up? Break-ups were normal. People come and go. Not everyone stays in the end. It was normal to be left and to leave people behind, because that’s just how life was. Time won’t stop when people change and go their own ways from one another. Yet it still _hurt_ for some unfathomable reason to Akashi.

Was it because he grew too attached? He didn’t think so.

Was it because it was foreign? Possibly.

Or was it because he cha—was _awakened_ and now his mental state was having a hard time coping? That seemed more likely.

Whatever reason he tried to think of though just didn’t sit well with him. He tried to look for people or things to blame, and he tried to bring it onto _him_ but it wasn’t working. The more he tried to think about it, the more he comes to realize it was his own fault and he didn’t want to accept that because he was the winner he was absolute and always right.

The more he thought about it, the more he comes to the realization that, _fuck_ , it wasn’t even a break up. What was there to have a break in when they were simply dancing around each other, never really admitting anything? What was there to end when there was never any clear thing that happened?

But there was. Something happened— _something was starting_ —but it never came through and Akashi wonders why he calls it a break-up.

Even if, technically, that’s what is was, but wasn’t.

Red and golden eyes eyed the small white envelope on his study desk, along with the small set of photo booth stickers that were carefully hidden underneath some of his books on the said desk. The more he stared at them, the more he could feel his body growing stiff and numb. His mouth felt dryer and dryer, but he felt like he was also losing control of his tongue. He could feel his saliva swishing around in his mouth and his palms balling into fists on the desk.

He gingerly took the white envelope—which came from _his_ resignation letter—and raised it to his eye level. The paste has been removed, the tongue of the envelope hanging open. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it again, after how many times he already did so, because the more he thought back to the contents, yesterday afternoon’s setting always came back to mind so fucking vividly.

The coach’s office, the shaking of his hand, the way he bit his lip—they were all so vivid, along with the words that went with it.

 _Goodbye._ There were less than twenty words on that piece of shitty paper but one word stood out in the pretty much empty paper.

Fucking _goodbye_.

It felt like a break-up from _him_ with the Generation of Miracles, with _Akashi,_ and that pissed him off. It made him disappointed, because what right did he have breaking up with the absolute one when he was the one who gave him power, skill, _everything he had_ —

When he got home that afternoon, the anger radiated off him in waves as he took out the envelope and slammed it down the table. The stickers that were near it lifted slightly from the force, and Akashi eyed them with fury. He was just about to reach out for them, but seeing those blue eyes with something different from their now common expression calmed him down. His anger transformed into an aggressive sadness that felt so destructive in him before turning into a dull numbing sensation.

His body for the next day—today—felt like it wasn’t his, and it was only now, when he was holding the bane of his existence again did he feel he could have his body again.

He didn’t expect feeling something new, though. The feeling of bile rising up his throat, and the violent stinging feeling behind his eyeballs. His lips felt numb but he could feel them shaking as he took out the paper from the envelope. He reread the paper, but his eyes still fall on one word almost immediately: _Goodbye_.

Before he knew it, Akashi was crumpling the paper in his hands with a force that he felt was too undignified for him. He let out shaky breaths that felt so out of place, and he held the paper tighter. He could faintly feel himself tearing small holes into the paper, but his eyes were still focused on that one fucking word that made him feel so, _so_ —

Horrible.

Break-ups were normal. Fuck, this wasn’t even a break-up, this was _just_ a damn resignation letter.

So why the fuck does it feel like a personal break-up from Kuro-- _Tetsuya_?

His hands grew shakier, and Akashi let out a growl. Memories of the blue-haired teen flooded his mind, from his small smiles to the current _dead_ looks he’s been getting and suddenly Akashi couldn’t handle anything.

Akashi opened his mouth slowly to let out a scream of frustration, but no sound came out. Yet, his throat felt like it was burning and he could taste something salty entering his taste buds. His eyes felt wet and, again, slowly rested his head on the table. His forehead collided with the table with a small sound, and he took a sharp intake of breath. His hand remained balled into a fist, and with his head down, he ripped the paper apart.

The sound of the paper ripping was supposed to feel great, supposed to make him feel like he was finally winning again, but it simply felt like it passed through his ears. The sound of arcades and restaurants continue to ring in his ears, accompanied by the sound of basketballs hitting clean gym floors and rubber shoes squeaking on said floors.

The sound of what he thought was _victory_ didn’t sound like victory at all.

It sounded like a loss.

Which wasn’t right he was supposed to be the winner he is the winner this all just sick bullshit—

Hold on.

 _That’s right_.

This is all just some bullshit. This isn’t a break-up because there was nothing being broken. Nothing is lost. That’s right.

Akashi ignored the shouts of the other him in his mind as he raised his head. Tears were still flowing freely, but his eyes held a faraway yet determined look. He eyes the ripped papers in front of him and stared.

This is just nothing.

Just a small obstacle.

Wordlessly, he swept the papers with his hand and took out the trashcan from under the desk. He slid the papers off the desk and into the trashcan, and was about to keep it back under until he saw the photo booth stickers.

Since most of it were covered by books, but he could clearly see the blue hair and blue eyes staring at him. He had the urge to grab the pictures and grab his scissors and just cut him out—

But he didn’t.

He took the stickers and let them dangle above the trashcan.

Again, his thoughts drifted back to _Tetsuya_ and how this was all his fucking fault, but the more he thought about it that way, the more he felt sick to his stomach. Bile began to rise up again, and he could feel more wetness sliding down his face.

It would be so easy to simply throw these pieces of shit.

Akashi really wanted to.

Just as he let go of them, his hand jerked and he had a thought. A smirk came up.

Again, he slid the pictures under his books. He’ll keep them, for now. He’ll have his revenge on Tetsuya one day, and he’ll look back on these stickers and realize how this whole ordeal was just some big obstacle that he would have gone over by then. That’s right, he’ll keep these _things_ and show Tetsuya who’s right. He’ll show him leaving was the worst thing he could’ve done.

The thought of brining Tetsuya brought a smile to his lips as he leaned back on his chair. He couldn’t feel that he was still crying, nor hear his own heart breaking over and over again to the sound of his other self just screaming and crying at him in curses. He couldn’t even Tetsuy— _Kuroko’s_ soft calling to him and his own voice, nor hear the familiar sound of basketball shoes against gym floors that accompanied it.

_“Akashi-kun.”_

**Author's Note:**

> breathes i love mayday parade
> 
> thanks for reading! hmu on tumblr/twit @ ayykaashi hihi


End file.
